Young and Beautiful
by emeraldorchids
Summary: Short little fic, established Mirandy.


Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. Characters sadly belong to Lauren Weisberger / 20thC Fox & song and lyrics belong to Lana del Rey.

Note: If you haven't heard this song, have a listen before reading (I've linked to it on my tumblr, but you should be able to find it easily by googling). I was listening to this song on repeat for a few days (don't ask) and even though I have two other 20K+ fics in the works, I had to stop and write this one.

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Young and Beautiful

Andrea walked into the den and took a seat in what had become _her_ chair. She toed off her L. K. Bennett pumps and unfastened the zipper of her Prada skirt while she tucked her legs underneath her. Looking over to the side table, she smiled: Miranda had been sitting in her chair again. _It's the simple things I love so much about her_, Andrea thought as she reached for her partner's half-empty wine glass with just the faintest imprint of her sheer lipstick along the side.

Andrea helped herself to a drink, savoring the delicate liquid. Over the past few years, Andrea learned that Miranda delighted in teaching her partner of the finer things in life. Whereas she really didn't mind the taste of a Charles Shaw Pinot Grigio (commonly known as 'Two-buck Chuck'), seeing the delight in Miranda's eyes when she savored a German Riesling was worth it all. Miranda was worth it all.

They had been together for over seven years. Just over four years ago, Andrea had moved into the townhouse—right when the twins left for high school at a private school a few hours north of the city in Millbrook. In a few months, they would be graduating. Caroline would be going to Yale and Cassidy to NYU's Tisch School of Performing Arts. The past seven years were easily the best of the young woman's life. In fact, she often felt like her life hadn't quite begun until she met Miranda.

Andrea swirled the wine around in the glass before taking the final sip. Sometimes, it all felt quite surreal—kissing Miranda Priestly, touching her, waking up next to her, sitting in bed on Sunday mornings reading the paper with her.

As Andrea set down the wine glass, she recalled her thirtieth birthday. Andrea was anxious about her birthday that year—specifically because she was worried Miranda was planning on a surprise party. But instead, Miranda arranged a quiet weekend for them at her place on Martha's Vineyard, and she singlehandedly managed to make her feel like the most beautiful, desirable woman in the world.

Andrea glanced at her watch. It was only ten minutes ago that Miranda greeted her at the door as she arrived home. It was nearly 11pm, and Andrea was hoping that after her long meeting with her staff at _The_ _Mirror, _she could crawl into bed for some quiet time with her partner before Miranda left for LA the next day, but apparently she had something different planned, as she instructed her to wait downstairs.

Sighing, she picked up Miranda's iPad from the side table so she could browse some news stories—or maybe even indulge in some TMZ celebrity gossip, her secret, guilty pleasure. Pulling back the cover and unlocking the iPad, she pulled up Safari and clicked on the "Search" box, still unsure whether she wanted to read more about the situation in North Korea, or if she was just going to check out some hideous photos from this year's Met Gala.

Andrea gasped as she glanced at the search history that instantly popped up: mastopexy recovery, liposuction, botox, wrinkle creams, face lift, plastic surgery complications, how to look younger. She quickly flipped the iPad over to see that it was, in fact, Miranda's iPad. _Was anyone else using this? _she wondered. _It couldn't be Miranda, _she thought, _Miranda was always so comfortable and confident with herself in regards to aging. _Andrea froze as she realized Miranda must have been struggling with this alone—that she was too embarrassed or something to share her fears with her partner.

Taking a deep breath, Andrea put the iPad down and headed upstairs, not bothering to zip her skirt back up. She needed to see Miranda and reassure her of whatever it was that was bothering her. As she climbed the stairs, she began thinking about the past few weeks. Miranda was definitely quieter and more withdrawn—they hadn't even been intimate in over two weeks. Andrea had previously dismissed that, attributing it to their hectic schedules and stress from work, but now, as she opened the door to their master suite, she felt a hollow in the pit of her stomach for not noticing this sooner.

She stopped when she saw Miranda, standing in front of the trifold full length mirrors. "I told you to wait downstairs for me," Miranda said, quickly tying her silk robe tightly around her waist.

Andrea wasn't sure what to say. She walked over to the older woman and wrapped her arms around her, softly kissing her cheek. "I needed to see you, beautiful," she said. As she looked up into her partner's eyes, she saw tears forming, and perhaps more disconcerting, she saw a significant amount of makeup. Not wanting to push her, Andrea softly kissed her lips and said, "let's take our makeup off and go to bed, okay?"

"No—" Miranda said, jerking away and stepping towards the small sofa.

Andrea cringed. This was worse than she had been expecting, and she knew it wouldn't help to tell Miranda she looked awful with all the layers of makeup on. "Miranda, please," she said, stepping closer. "You are the most beautiful woman I know, and when I kiss you, I want to taste _you_, not Laura Mercier."

"Can we at least keep the lights out then?" Miranda asked quietly, looking down at her hands.

"Sure," Andrea said, taking her hand and tugging her towards the bathroom. Andrea stood behind her in front of the sink and she pulled out some makeup remover and cotton pads. Beginning with her own face, she slowly removed the eye makeup and foundation, tossing the soiled brown-grey pads into the trash bin. Without saying a word, she moistened another cotton pad and lifted her hand to Miranda's forehead. "I love you, Miranda. I need you to remember that," Andrea whispered as she began removing the heavy, layered foundation.

Miranda closed her eyes as tears began to stream from her eyes. She knew Andrea loved her, and she wanted to believe so badly that she meant it, regardless, but lately, she had been feeling incredibly insecure. It was ever since a photo of her without makeup showed up online that she began to seriously question her appearance.

She and Andrea were walking in the park early on a Sunday morning. Neither of them wore makeup, though they both had oversized sunglasses on. Needless to say, a photographer managed a high-definition close up of the wrinkles on Miranda's forehead and around her mouth. Until then, she hadn't even noticed them herself, but all she could think of lately was Andrea suddenly finding her old and unattractive and leaving her.

Miranda was jolted from her thoughts by Andrea's soft voice. "Open your eyes, darling. You are so beautiful. Talk to me," she whispered.

"I—I can't," Miranda said. "Please, let's just go to sleep," she said, wiping the tears from her eyes.

Andrea nodded and took Miranda's hand, slowly leading her into the bedroom. She shut the lights and stood next to the side of the bed, facing the other woman. Taking a deep breath, she unbuttoned her blouse and discarded it on the floor. Next, she slipped her already-unzipped skirt off, and pulled down her control-top Spanx black nylons, taking her underwear with them. Finally, she reached up and unclasped her bra, freeing her breasts.

"Touch me, Miranda," she said quietly.

"I—I can't. I'm sorry," Miranda said, her hand hovering over Andrea's breast. She reached up and buried her face in her hands as she turned her back on her gloriously naked lover.

Andrea stepped behind her, placing her hands on the woman's shoulders. "Miranda, I went on your iPad today to read the news while I was waiting downstairs." Andrea felt the woman stiffen beneath her hands as she continued, "And I saw your search history." She took a deep breath before continuing, "Why didn't you say anything to me?"

"Why?" Miranda cried, turning around to face the younger woman, "Andrea, I'm not permitted to be insecure. I've seen the world and done it all. I've been named the #2 most influential person in the world. I've had all the diamonds, cars, houses I could ever imagine." Miranda paused and sat on the edge of the bed before continuing.

"I think of those hot summer nights when we were first together. You and I were wild. Each day was crazier than the previous, and I think we had sex in nearly every restroom and towncar in Manhattan," she said with a half-smile. "We were young. You were impressed by me; you looked up to me in awe. And I—well, I got to know you in so many ways. Your soul electrified me."

"I remember that, too," Andrea said, moving to stand directly in front of Miranda. "But I was never more in love with you than I am right now."

Miranda sniffled and brought her hand up to her nose. "Will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful?" she asked, "When I'm nothing but my aching, aging soul?"

Andrea took Miranda's face in her hands, tilting her chin upwards so she could see her eyes. "Of course I will," she said before crushing her lips to the other woman's.

Andrea stepped closer, settling herself between Miranda's legs as she deepened the kiss, hungrily sucking the air from Miranda's mouth, swallowing each moan, wrapping her lover's tongue in her own.

"Ohhh, Andrea, Andrea," Miranda panted as Andrea pushed her back onto the mattress. Miranda scooted back as Andrea crawled up her body. Andrea's hands danced over her body until they reached the sash on her robe. She looked up, meeting Miranda's eyes as if asking for permission. Miranda nodded, and Andrea untied the robe, slipping it off Miranda's arms as she arched her back.

"Ohh, Miranda," Andrea moaned as she took her partner's nipple in her mouth. It had been over two weeks, and she hadn't quite realized just how much she missed the woman's taste. She continued her appreciation of the woman's body, sprinkling kisses here, licks there. "Miranda, you will _always_ be beautiful," she said, crawling up and resting her entire body on Miranda's. "And," she continued, "whenever you start _thinking_ that you're not young or beautiful, please remember that I will love you no matter what."

Miranda wrapped her arms around the young woman and buried her face in her neck. "I know you will," she hummed, "I know you will, I know that you will."

Tears streamed down Andrea's cheeks as she frantically kissed the woman beneath her. "Please, don't do this to me again," she said between kisses. "I don't think my heart can take it."

"Darling, I need you," Miranda said, gently thrusting her hips upward, "please, make love to me," she purred.

Andrea slid her hand down to Miranda's drenched curls, pumping her fingers in and out.

"Aah…so close…please…Andrea," she gasped as her shoulders began curling up off the bed. Miranda reached down and entwined her fingers in the brunette's hair, pushing her further, begging for release.

Seconds later, Andrea was crawling alongside Miranda's body as the waves of her climax continued to ripple through her. "I love you, Miranda Priestly," Andrea murmured into her lover's ear, her sticky right hand wrapped around Miranda's waist as they both drifted off into sleep.

Several hours later, Miranda woke. Her partner was curled up alongside her, and they were laying askew in the bed. A cursory glance showed they had fallen asleep on top of the comforter, which Andrea must have thrown over them before falling asleep.

Looking down at the young woman, Miranda smiled. _I know she will_, she thought. Miranda closed her eyes and tried to fall back asleep, not wanting to wake Andrea. _Dear lord, _Miranda thought,_ when I get to heaven, please let me bring my love. When she comes, tell me that you'll let her in—tell me that you can. _She took a deep breath, continuing her thoughts, _Oh, that grace, that body, that face brightens up my life. She's my sunshine; she makes me shine brighter than diamonds. _

"Mmm," Andrea said, stretching and looking up at Miranda's clear blue eyes.

"Good morning, darling," Miranda purred.

"Miranda," she murmured, snuggling closer, her eyes still half asleep.

"Andrea, I love you so very much. You know, I thank the gods for each and every day you are in my life," Miranda said, squeezing her close.

"Love you, too, Miranda. You're always young and beautiful to me, okay?" she asked, softly kissing her neck.

"Yes, I know that now," Miranda replied, kissing the top of her head and swiftly falling back asleep in the arms of her lover.

the end.

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A/N: Please R/R— this is my first established Mirandy story, and my first songfic, too. Hope it was tolerable! Also, if any of you amazingly talented people would like to contribute a gorgeous image/manip, video, etc… that would be AWESOME. :)


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